say you and Jane are acquainted with the particulars, but is Lydia ignorant of what you seem to know so well?”
“I am afraid so, Uncle. That is why I am castigating myself. Till I was in Kent and saw so much of both Mr. Darcy and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, I was ignorant of the truth myself.”
“I see.” The glance her uncle shared with his wife showed he desired to delve deeper for the source of his niece’s information, even as she did.
“I shared my information with Jane when I returned home,” continued Elizabeth hastily, squirming internally under the steady gaze of her aunt and uncle. “We considered sharing our information with the rest of the neighbourhood, including our sisters, but we decided such an effort was not warranted since the regiment was due to leave the county in a week. And even after Mrs. Forster tendered her invitation to Lydia, the necessity of opening her eyes to Wickham’s character never occurred to me. I never considered she might be in any danger from his deceitful nature.”
Though I have more than enough reason to lament the decision now, she added to herself.
“Then, when Lydia departed with Mrs. Forster, you had no reason to think her and Wickham fond of each other?” asked Mrs. Gardiner.
“None whatsoever. I cannot remember any evidence of affection on either side except when he first entered the corps. She was ready enough to admire him then, but so were we all. Every girl in or near Meryton was out of her senses about him for the first two months, but he never marked Lydia by any particular attention. It was not long before others of the regiment, who treated her with more distinction, again became her favourites.”
In the midst of her despair about Lydia and her whole family during the long journey back to Longbourn, Elizabeth could not abstain from returning to a most unwelcome thought: What would Mr. Darcy have done had she not refused his proposal of marriage? If they were not married by now, would he have broken the engagement? Or would this dreadful circumstance even come to pass? She thought not since even her father would not have allowed Lydia to go to Brighton with his next eldest daughter planning marriage.
In this mode, the conversation continued, for no novelty of the journey could draw their minds from their fears, hopes, and conjectures on this worrying subject. They repeated themselves and covered the same topics again and again during the whole of the journey, and even in moments of relative quiet, it was never absent from Elizabeth’s thoughts.
How Mr. Darcy would triumph if he knew of our shame and disgrace! she thought miserably. How gratified he would be at having fortunately escaped a connection to such a wretched family!
Afflicted by the keenest of all anguish, self-reproach, she could find no ease or relief from the turmoil of her thoughts. It was fortunate for her that the darkness inside the carriage and the noise from the wheels concealed her muffled sobs and tears, for she was in no condition to disguise the miserable gloom that seized her spirits.
***
Saturday, August 8, 1812
After sleeping one night on the road, the Gardiner coach arrived at Longbourn by dinnertime the next day. There the travellers found the little Gardiners waiting for them on the steps of the house, delighted to see their parents again and clearly ignorant of the events that troubled everyone else. Elizabeth was eager to seek Jane, but she tarried long enough to give each child a hasty kiss before hurrying through the front door, where Jane was just coming down the stairs to meet her.
“Has anything been heard of Lydia and Wickham?” Elizabeth asked immediately as she embraced her dear sister, but Jane could give her no pleasing answer. Her father had, according to her report, travelled to town as her letter stated. He promised to write, but his only note was a paltry few lines simply informing her of his arrival and stating he would not write again until
“I am afraid so, Uncle. That is why I am castigating myself. Till I was in Kent and saw so much of both Mr. Darcy and his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam, I was ignorant of the truth myself.”
“I see.” The glance her uncle shared with his wife showed he desired to delve deeper for the source of his niece’s information, even as she did.
“I shared my information with Jane when I returned home,” continued Elizabeth hastily, squirming internally under the steady gaze of her aunt and uncle. “We considered sharing our information with the rest of the neighbourhood, including our sisters, but we decided such an effort was not warranted since the regiment was due to leave the county in a week. And even after Mrs. Forster tendered her invitation to Lydia, the necessity of opening her eyes to Wickham’s character never occurred to me. I never considered she might be in any danger from his deceitful nature.”
Though I have more than enough reason to lament the decision now, she added to herself.
“Then, when Lydia departed with Mrs. Forster, you had no reason to think her and Wickham fond of each other?” asked Mrs. Gardiner.
“None whatsoever. I cannot remember any evidence of affection on either side except when he first entered the corps. She was ready enough to admire him then, but so were we all. Every girl in or near Meryton was out of her senses about him for the first two months, but he never marked Lydia by any particular attention. It was not long before others of the regiment, who treated her with more distinction, again became her favourites.”
In the midst of her despair about Lydia and her whole family during the long journey back to Longbourn, Elizabeth could not abstain from returning to a most unwelcome thought: What would Mr. Darcy have done had she not refused his proposal of marriage? If they were not married by now, would he have broken the engagement? Or would this dreadful circumstance even come to pass? She thought not since even her father would not have allowed Lydia to go to Brighton with his next eldest daughter planning marriage.
In this mode, the conversation continued, for no novelty of the journey could draw their minds from their fears, hopes, and conjectures on this worrying subject. They repeated themselves and covered the same topics again and again during the whole of the journey, and even in moments of relative quiet, it was never absent from Elizabeth’s thoughts.
How Mr. Darcy would triumph if he knew of our shame and disgrace! she thought miserably. How gratified he would be at having fortunately escaped a connection to such a wretched family!
Afflicted by the keenest of all anguish, self-reproach, she could find no ease or relief from the turmoil of her thoughts. It was fortunate for her that the darkness inside the carriage and the noise from the wheels concealed her muffled sobs and tears, for she was in no condition to disguise the miserable gloom that seized her spirits.
***
Saturday, August 8, 1812
After sleeping one night on the road, the Gardiner coach arrived at Longbourn by dinnertime the next day. There the travellers found the little Gardiners waiting for them on the steps of the house, delighted to see their parents again and clearly ignorant of the events that troubled everyone else. Elizabeth was eager to seek Jane, but she tarried long enough to give each child a hasty kiss before hurrying through the front door, where Jane was just coming down the stairs to meet her.
“Has anything been heard of Lydia and Wickham?” Elizabeth asked immediately as she embraced her dear sister, but Jane could give her no pleasing answer. Her father had, according to her report, travelled to town as her letter stated. He promised to write, but his only note was a paltry few lines simply informing her of his arrival and stating he would not write again until
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